


Angels of Earth

by AlexDoesFanfic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AUs, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Break Up, But mostly angst, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, bunch of cute and angsty stuff, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-06-16 06:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexDoesFanfic/pseuds/AlexDoesFanfic
Summary: This is, simply put, a lot of short Destiel fics with mentions of sabriel. Most don't correlate but there may be part 2's in places. Enjoy if you read and.. hope I don't make you too sad, but im not that good at writing so I don't think I will.





	1. Flower boy hero

If you had asked a young Dean Winchester, where he thought he would be in 10-15 years, he definitely did not think he would be in his position. Stood on stage, code name: Texan Terror, singing metal for millions of fans. Growing up as a 'scene kid' listening to Led Zepplin, Dean was always chasing this goal but he never once thought he'd get here.

 

 

Women were chanting his name as Dean screamed the chorus over the riffs of his guitar. He silently wondered if his parents would be proud of him if they could see him now. They'd certainly be surprised. Given that Dean had spent the majority of his life scamming credit cards and living out of motels. Eating microwave lunch for two, by himself. But now he was here and it' been damn hard getting here... but well worth it.

 

This was a bigger crowd than Dean had expected. Given that his tour manager Bobby had said nothing about the size of the arena he was going to be playing in. The lights were dim as they always were at Deans show (He enjoyed the atmosphere.). A mosh pit had broken out in the floor seats and half of the women in the back were topless. Dean loved the rockstar lifestyle.

 

Strobe lights blinded his eyes as Deans hands stroked over his guitar strings. He had never been overwhelmed by the amount of people he played to, as it wasn't a very intimidating atmosphere. However, both Dean and his management were becoming increasingly stressed about the capacity of people. Objects were being thrown on stage and the moshers were becoming more and more violent. Dean was going to have a hard time getting out of here.

 

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Castiel hummed over the quiet music in his headphones as he watered the tulips in the front of the store. Castiels dad was not entirely impressed when Cas revealed that he wanted to run a flourist shop as a full time job. His Dad gave in when he came to the conclusion that Castiel was still doing the lords work by tending to his creations. To be honest, Cas was never truly religious anyways.

 

He enjoyed the tulips and Magnolias mainly. Their bright colours and large petals. He scratched his short black hair as he ran around the rest of the store as fast as he could, just to get back to the counter before a customer came through the door. Though few did these days. There were far more people preferring diamonds and teddy bears over flowers. Castiel was definitely not complaining, however, due to the solitude he could be in. Plus, if anybody entered the store, he'd have to turn off his song, and he really liked this part.

 

The show finished in no time, much to Deans surprise. It seemed like the shows were getting shorter and shorter the more times he did the same thing, but he was still playing the same amount of songs and engaging the same amount. Dean stared at himself in the mirror, almost chuckling at his dark eye shadow and Bowie-like face paint before washing it off and pulling a hoodie over his head.

 

Dean was immediately ambushed as soon as he exited the back rooms. Cameras flashed harshly in his eyes and there were atleast a hundred people screaming for his attention or his autographs. Bobby gave him a helpless look over the crowd and Dean took the hint, ducking beneath the peoples arms and running for the sidewalk.

 

It was easy for Dean to escape the hoards of his fans in this city. He had been before and mapped out the allies and back streets to avoid paparazzi in his down time. Right now, he was using the back streets to run the length of the town without getting speared and suffocated by a crazed fan.

 

Dean ran to the first place he could think of that nobody would expect him to go. Bursting through the doors of the store he was immediately thrust into an environment that didn't suit his lifestyle. His dyed blue hair and piercings stood out harshly against the roses and Daisies in the back of the Angel floral shop.

 

The man crouched down behind what he guessed were bags of soil or compost. He had to steer clear of all windows and people that were on his trail. It was times like this that Dean questioned both, the rest of his career and whether or not he would be firing Bobby tomorrow. It was possibly, mostly Deans own fault for not hiring security. He was always too stubborn to hire muscle because he thought it made him look weak.

 

Castiel sighed as his conscious reminded him that he needed to replant the flowers outside and to do that he needed the extra bags of compost from the back to replant them with. He stalked his way to the back of the store, removing his head phones so that he wouldn't get distracted and ruin the flowers or spill the compost. Reaching the back, Cas was startled to find a tall boy, crouched awkwardly behind the bags with a sheepish look on his face.

 

Dean crawled his way out from behind the bags and stood up shakily. His legs had been stuck in the same position for a while and they'd gone slightly numb. Dean was surprised to see that the man was roughly the same height as him as most people were smaller than him. Dean coughed, awkwardly and brushed the dirt from his knees.

 

"Who.. are you?" Castiel questioned, obviously paying more attention to Deans attire than the rest of him. It was clear that Cas was confused due to Dean being both, in his store and hiding.  
"Dean.." Dean replied, expecting the man to know who he was as.. he was quite famous. Which wasn't his ego talking, it was purely statistical.

 

Cas, however, still ha no idea who this man in his store was. He gave Dean a pointed look and Deans eyes widened in shock. Shock that this man had... no idea who he was. It was honestly kind of refreshing.

 

"My names Dean Winchester, but most people know me as the Texan Terror. Y'know... the singer?"  
"What kind of a name is Texan terror?" Castiel asked, chuckling slightly but trying his best not to be rude.  
"Hey. My manager picked it, okay."  
"Well, I think you need to hire a better manager. My names Castiel Novak.. by the way." Cas held out his hand for Dean to shake as he introduced himself. Dean smiled at Castiels snarky remark and shook his hand back.

 

Dean took a second now to take Castiel in. Looking past the apron and little bit of mud on his face, Dean thought the man looked rather good. he was smart and classy, with a blue tie and gelled but messy black hair. His eyes matched the colour of a few of the flowers in the store and they were kind of hard to look away from.

 

Castiel supposed that Dean looked relatively good-looking too. His muscular and tatted arms intrigued Cas and he was more than slightly amused by his hair. Dean looked like he was a hard hitting, cold hearted rocker. But Cas could tell by his eyes that there was somebody underneath, which made him want to know Dean better.

 

"Well... why are you here? Like.. in the back of my store hiding behing bags of compost?" Castiel question, attempting to stifle a laugh but failing miserably.  
"I'm trying to hide from a mob of crazed fans." Dean stated, his eyes filled with horror.  
"Well... Give me your number so you can hide here when were open." Cas replied, subtly.

 

Deans breath stopped, his eyelashes blinking a little quickly as he tried to process the fact that this cool flower boy asked him for his number. Dean agreed, handing his phone to Cas who typed in his number, leaving his name as "Biggest fan <3"

"You smooth mother fucker." Dean laughed before launching into a conversation about what Cas' favourite flower was and why in the hell he didn't know who the Texan Terror was.


	2. Monster Among Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets trashed and cant remember what happened the night before, but for some reason, Castiel isn't answering his prayers...

Dean groaned, begrudgingly opening his eyes. Light seeped through his half-opened bedroom door and blinded him as he rolled away from it. His head pounded as if he had been hit repeatedly by several trucks in a row. What the ever living fuck happened last night? Dean had no clue, but from the looks of things, it was very fun. There were beer bottles strewn across the floor, a soft buzzing in his ears, and his shirt was hanging from a lamp in the corner. Softening the yellow glow that covered his bedroom. Dean rubbed his eyes, groaning again.

After double-checking that he was dressed, Dean stumbled out of the bedroom and down the hallway, holding onto the wall as he went. His mind was a giant fog of confusion and he remembered nothing from the night before. He was sure that Sam would know. Sam always knows what Dean gets up to when he's too drunk to remember his name. Groggily, Dean fell into the kitchen where Sam was making coffee and bacon, like he had done since they were kids. Dean took his place at the table and put his head in his hands, grateful for the shelter they brought.

"Hey, Sammy. What the hell happened last night?" Deans voice sounded like gravel and sandpaper as he questioned Sam. Sam laughed, mentioning something along the lines of, Dean wouldn't want to know. Dean assumed that he had done what he always does when he gets too high. He'd probably brought a girl home, called her a different name on account of the million ladies he had brought to the bunker, she probably got angry and left. That may also be why, Dean had red marks on both sides of his face. He'd been slapped enough times to know how it feels.

He seemed to be getting nowhere with Sam, so he left it at that. Concluding that he didn't need to know what happened and, like Sammy said, he probably didn't want to know anyways. During breakfast, in between stuffing his face and downing his red hot coffee, Sam proposed a case to Dean that he had spotted in the newspaper last night. After Dean had gotten over the fact that Sam reads newspapers before bed like an elderly man, he allowed Sam to continue. Dean was immediately put off of this case because of the ghoul they would be facing. Freaking witches.

Dean hated witches with a passion. Not because they were mostly women and not because they were all primarily stuck up bitches, but because... they were normal people. They had nothing supernatural about them, aside from the fact that they messed with a few spells and worshipped friggin' Lucifer. Dean whined about the case, asked if they could pawn it off to some other hunter. But like always, Sam felt a strange emotional connection to the people involved and just had to save them. Sometimes Dean really didn't understand his brother. They were such opposites.

So, now, against his will, Dean was in another motel room halfway across the country with a vending machine that didn't work. They had been here a few days already and were getting...nowhere, really. Sammy had been to every library in a 20 mile radius and had newspaper clippings pinned to almost every surface. They had been here for such a short amount of time and Sam was already making them look like nutcases. Red string connected every newspaper cut out like some FBI investigation and Sam hadn't slept since they arrived. Dean, however, had been otherwise occupied by the usual.

He'd hit every bar in walking distance and questioned as much as he drank... which was a lot. He had spent a night with Suzie, who was a bartender in the first bar he'd walked in. She had told him a substantial amount of information about her skills in the bedroom, but nothing suspicious or about witches in that case.

Dean had also spent a good amount of time with a man called Elliot at a gay bar nearby that he thought might hold the answers he needed. It didn't. Never-the-less, Dean felt strangely comforted by Elliot and his tales of woe. It reminded him that he wasn't alone in the fact that he felt like shit 99.9% of the time. So, now, both Dean had Sam had looked for information in the places that they are usually successful and had come up empty. With no information on the Witch like activity or any strange goings on at all. Dean suggested that they may be in the wrong town, but Sam was too stubborn to admit that he had been wrong about anything. And so they stayed. Cooped up in a small, dingy, motel room for four days.

It took a total of four whole days for Dean to realise that they were going about this the wrong way. They were looking for information in all the wrong places when they had their own fountain of knowledge as a friend. Castiel. Why Dean didn't think about calling on him sooner was news to him. It also shocked Dean that Sam hadn't brought it up for some reason. Sure, Castiel made Sam semi uncomfortable because he as such a powerful entity, but Dean assumed that Sammy trusted Cas enough to call for him when they needed help, which they did.

Dean sat down on his bed in the motel, in his classic 'pray to Cas' pose. His hands clasped mockingly in front of him and his head bowed slightly. The first few times Dean had one this were beyond the normal level of awkward that humans experienced. He didn't know what to say or how loud he had to speak, or if Cas was even listening. Now, however, Dean knew that no matter where Cas was, he could always hear Dean when he prayed to him. Something about being the one who raised him from perdition or some bullshit like that.

"Hey, Cas. We need your help on a case so get your feathery ass down here." Deans voice was calm and smooth, as if Castiel was in the room with him. His initial awkwardness of praying to Cas had been diminished the closer they got as friends, now it was easy to close his eyes and ask for him to come down. It was as simple as picking up the phone and talking to Sammy. Only when he did that, Sammy tended to answer.

For some reason, in this situation, Castiel had decided to ignore Deans pleas for help. Which was quite inconvenient for both Sam and Dean who just wanted this case over quickly. No matter how many times he attempted to reach out, Cas was not willing to co-operate with Dean to the point where Dean actually became slightly upset and annoyed at Castiel's ignorance.

After mulling over stale whisky and case files, Dean was thinking about it again. Castiel always answered. Whenever Dean needed him to help out, he was already there before Dean had finished his sentence, yet, now, Cas seemed to want nothing to do with him. Dean couldn't make sense of it, so he decided to try Sammy again.

"Sam!" Dean called from his spot at the dining table. Sam rounded the corner an into the kitchen so that he could see and hear Dean, motioning for him to continue.

"What happened the other night?" He asked, draining the last sip of his whiskey and turning to face Sam who had now turned white and looked extremely nervous.

"Do you really not remember?" He questioned back. Dean was worried now, because he had evidently done something wrong. Not wrong in the sense that 'I forgot your name because I have too many one night stands.' But wrong in the sense that he had said something or done something that may be irreversible. Dean shook his head, answering Sammys question and probing him to carry on. Maybe he could fix it if he knew what happened.

FLASHBACK

Castiel sat emotionless in the booth as Dean and Sam were throwing back beer after beer. Being an angel had its advantages but it also had its fair share of disadvantages. One being that he couldn't get drunk with his friends and his brain so needed a rest right now. At least the brothers were happy, though.

Cas had seen Dean and Sammy drunk before, countless times. When Sam gets drunk he has two polar opposite reactions. He either becomes quieter than he originally was, or he becomes loud and loving. Hugging everything that moved. Apparently tonight was a night for quiet Sam as he cuddled into the corner of the booth, watching the rain fall outside the window. Dean also had two sides when he was drunk, One being that he gets overly horny and wants to have sex with everyone (apart from Sam), and the other being that he gets very, very angry.

Apparently, due to the fact that he payed no attention to the attractive female waitress, and that he almost broke his glass just by holding it, Dean was quite angry tonight. Now usually, when Dean is angry, he builds everything inside until he can run away and punch a wall or a mirror. This time, however, Deans anger was spilling out of him like ink. He had already snapped at Sammy for draining all the life out of the night by being quiet and 'boring'. And, now, Cas was afraid that he may be next, judging by the course of the conversation.

Castiel was right. In under twenty minutes, they were both outside of the bar, leaving Sammy in the booth on his own. Dean had been ranting about how angels don't feel anything but there mission for three minutes straight before Cas had had enough of him. He had practically dragged him from the bar and out of the door, creating an equal distance between them before questioning him about his behaviour.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Dean?"

"You!" He fired back. "Ever since you came along, everything has changed for the worst. Everybody is dying around us and it is your fault! You waltz in, in your fucking trench-coat and expect to be our friend. 'part of the family'. Well guess what, angel? You played a big fucking part in killing the only family I had left and you just walk back in after it blows over like it's nothing. Nobody wants you here, you son of a bitch. Fly the fuck away..."

Every word that Dean said came out slurred but that didn't lessen the blow to Cas' heart as Dean reeled of his true feelings. As soon as Dean had said it, he had tried to take it back but Cas wouldn't listen. A drunk mans words are a sober mans thoughts and Cas was finally getting the truth out of Dean. And It fucking stung. Cas left after that, being sure to leave Dean with a blow to the face for good measure. He wouldn't remember in the morning anyway, and Cas wasn't going to be around to remind hm. After tonight, Cas wasn't sure if he wanted to see Dean ever again.

FLASHBACK OVER.

"Wow." Dean was a little taken aback by Sammy's version of events, he almost didn't want to believe it. "I said all of that?" Sam nodded. "No wonder he didn't want to come an help..." Dean whispered, mostly to himself but loud enough so that Sam heard too.

Two hours later and Dean was in another bar, mulling over another glass of whiskey, and trying like hell to figure out how he could get Cas to forgive him. They had had arguments before, but nothing an apology couldn't fix. It took Dean a long time to even get to the level of saying sorry to somebody. He just couldn't go without Cas' help. His friendship. Without Cas' he felt alone again. He had Sammy but not on the level that he was connected to Castiel. With Castiel he felt understood and... respected a little. Now all of that was gone and 'sorry' wouldn't bring it back.

on top of having to figure out how to get Cas to forgive him, Dean also had to find a way to get Castiel to even be in the same room as him. Dean had thought it over and had figured that the best way to get Castiel to at least half forgive him, was to explain. But Dean wasn't good with blurting out his feelings in person so wrote it all down. Granted, he was still drunk and his handwriting was sloppy, but it said everything that Dean was thinking. Every soppy thought and every thank you that he had forgotten to say to Cas.

This is where Sammy came in. Like everything in his life, Dean couldn't do this alone. And since Sam didn't say any friendship threatening things to Castiel, it had to be him that summoned Cas. Dean wasn't sure how Sam convinced Cas to turn up, he assumed that he had told him Dean would be miles away or that he was dying and needed urgent angel attention. However Sam got him here, Cas was here now.

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the motel. No longer part of the family, less comfortable than he had always been. Despite being an angel and having the abilities he had, Cas still looked like he'd gone weeks without sleep or food. He looked like shit and that made Dean immediately feel like shit. Dean was watching from afar, prior to orders from Sam. He had told him to stand in the corner and not say a word until Sam ensured that Cas wouldn't sly away as soon as he saw Dean.

There was no outrage or screaming that Dean had expected to happen. Cas was quiet, avoiding confrontation and looking away every time their eyes locked. For some reason, it hurt Dean more than what an argument would. The fact that his words had been so harmful to Castiel that, now, he had no fight left in him.

Dean approached when Sam gestured him over, cursing at himself under his breath every time Cas flinched or looked up at him with sad eyes.

His hand was shaky as he pulled out the letter and held it out for Cas to take. There was a moment of silence in the motel. Every bodies breath held in their throats as the letter passed from Deans shaky hands to Cas' warm, empty ones. There were several exhales as Cas snatched up the letter and pulled it towards him, attempting to ignore the tingle he felt when Deans fingertips grazed across his. Before Castiel could even attempt to start opening the letter, Dean cleared his throat to gain his attention.

"Could you maybe... read it when I'm not here? It's kind of chick-flicky and I just don't want to be here while were all being fucking girly and crying about our feelings, so just-" Dean ended his rambling when he looked up to find that Cas was already gone.

A few weeks later, Dean and Sam had solved the case, saved the lives, and hadn't heard a word from Castiel. Dean was reeling. Paranoid that he had ruined everything and lost the only friend, aside from Sam, that he had ever had. Sam was doing the annoying thing that he always did when something was wrong with Dean. Trying to figure him out and trying to make him feel better by stopping for more burgers and beers but Dean still felt like an asshole.

They were on the road back to the bunker, talking about something that Dean wasn't really listening to, while Black Sabbath played on the radio for the thousandth time. Out of nowhere, there was a flash and a bang and Baby swerved across the road. After regaining his posture and calming his driving, Dean looked over his shoulder at the same time as Sam. Cas sat nonchalantly in the back seat, a small smirk on his face.

"Hey, guys." He spoke softly but his voice was gruff. Dean smiled, Sam chuckled slightly. He mouthed a quick 'Thank you' to Cas because he was honestly so sick of dealing with Deans teenage drama bullshit. Cas simply nodded before turning to the flabbergasted Dean.

"You could've killed us, Cas." Dean choked out when he remembered how to talk, trying not to stumble over his words and reveal how happy he actually was.

Cas knew though, clearly. Of course he would see the subtle change in Deans eyes. The way he straightened up immediately, energy regained. Castiel placed his hand on Deans shoulder, a few inches from his original handprint and held eye contact with him.

"I forgive you, Dean." He admitted, his eyes smiling but his face serious. Sammy scoffed, that must've been some letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was largely inspired by the 5 seconds of summer song, monster among men. Sorry for the angst, hope you enjoy non-the-less.


	3. Heaven Help Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17 year old Dean is having a hard time at home and the Angel Castiel hears his prayers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK WARNING:  
> There's a teeny bit of abuse from John in this. So if that triggers you feel free to skip this chapter.   
> (I don't actually believe that John was abusive in this exact way but, yknow, sacrifices for the story)

WHAT DID I TELL YOU, DEAN?!" John yelled as he paced the living room of what Dean liked to call, the 'Winchester motel'. Mainly because they had been there for longer than a week. Dean was currently sat in the chair as John ranted at him, sniffling but refusing to cry or show his emotions.  
"Look after Sammy, Sir." Dean mumbled under his breath, almost inaudible but his dad heard. Dean flinched as John stopped pacing and stepped into his space, telling him to stand up. When Dean did he was chest height with the man that was supposedly his father, his eyes stared into the floor and he bit his lip. Willing himself not to talk back and make this worse.  
"The one thing I told you to do, was the exact thing you didn't do!" A shower of spit hit Deans face before the back of Johns hand. The impact knocked Dean a few paces back, almost falling back into the seat he was originally sat in. Dean had just recently turned 17, and for John that meant that he was becoming a man. Old enough to take a hit.  
Dean hadn't even really done anything wrong. John had to go out to question a person involved with the case he was on, and had left Dean to look over Sammy. He had been gone for over 6 hours but to Dean and Sam if felt like no time at all. They were too engrossed in their own games and conversation and Dean hadn't realised that it was past lunch. Sammy always had lunch at a certain time and he got very grumpy if he had to eat at different times in the day because it threw off his entire schedule. For a 13 year old he was quite persistent and organised.  
So when John came home to find neither boys fed and games strewn all over the motel, the blame was immediately on Dean.  
After the hit to the face, John had retreated, muttering something along the lines of 'what would your mother say?' and leaving Dean to pick himself up. He scampered away to his bedroom, attempting to avoid seeing Sam as he passed. Hiding his reddening face and teary eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. Dean slammed the door to his bedroom, finally letting his anger out and kicking his shoes across the floor. For once he was thankful that his door had a lock on the inside.  
He let the tears fall now, in frustration ad not sadness. He was angry at the fact that he couldn't talk back. Couldn't hit back. Couldn't leave because he had to be there for Sammy. There was no excusing the things his father did, but Dean had grown to understand that he reminded John of Mary. Reminded him of the anger he felt when he found his wife burning on the ceiling that fateful night. Thus, he took out that anger on Dean.  
Dean was never one to believe in higher powers, or God. He knew that demons and ghosts were real because he had seen them, felt them. But Dean had never seen anything to suggest that there was somebody looking over them, and if there were, Dean was sure that they were a dick for not intervening in the awful shit happening in the world.  
Still, despite his lack of belief, Dean found himself at age 17, knelt at the foot of his bed with his hands clasped in front of him. Praying to God, or Jesus. Anybody that would listen.  
"Uh... Hello?" Dean started, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and continued, suspecting that this was a one way system.  
"If there is anybody up there, which I highly doubt, I need some help. My Dads getting out of hand and well... I'm scared for my little brother Sammy. I'm not sure if John would ever hurt Sam like he does to me, but I cant protect him anymore. I'm... not strong enough for both of us. So... If there's any magical space dust that created everything...please, help me out. However you can."  
After waiting for a few minutes, peeking out from behind his hands, Dean concluded that he was being stupid and referred back to his previous disbelief. Despite not having anything to eat and still being able to see the sun through his bedroom curtains, Dean threw on his sleep hoodie and climbing into bed. Worn out from all the emotions running through his head.  
Dean was woken up by heavy pounding on his bedroom door, the lock rattling and John yelling from the other side that the warding had been broken through and Dean needed to "OPEN THE FUCK UP!"  
He reached for the knife under the pillow and moved towards the door. About to unlock it when he noticed a shadow in the corner of the room.  
"Who are you?..." Dean whispered, shocked that somebody had gotten into his room without waking him up.  
The shadow stepped forward to reveal a man, around the same age as Dean, almost drowning in a trench-coat. His eyes were a mesmerising blue and he was quite tall considering he seemed the same age as Dean and Dean was tiny.  
"My name is Castiel." The man replied, his voice seemed like he was attempting to sound manlier than he was and Dean was trying his hardest to stifle a laugh.  
"I'm an angel of the lord... You sent for me."  
Deans eyes widened when Castiel revealed what he was. After years of not believing in what he couldn't see, suddenly living proof was standing in his bedroom. A few feet in front of him. Dean walked causously toward the man, circling him a few times to inspect him. He went through all the tests: Salt, Iron and silver, Which Castiel passed with literal flying colours.  
"No friggin way... you're an actual real life angel? Are you freakin serious?... SWEET!" Dean yelled.


	4. Go to hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel are both in high school and Dean gets super pissed when he finds out that someone has been hurting Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter may be slightly annoying due to the fact that I don't give the guy that beats up Cas a name. So its always 'he' and 'him'. So.. sorry about that.  
> Also, first glimpse of Sabriel!

Castiel groaned as the bell rang for lunch. He gathered his things from the table and dragged his feet along the carpeted floor to the hall way. Every locker that slammed made him flinch as he shuffled along the corridor, his books hugged tightly to his chest as he attempted to scan the hallway for... him. It had only been going on for a few weeks but Castiel already felt at wits end. Every time he left a classroom or the school or attempted to walk home alone, he was there. Lurking in the shadows just waiting to pounce at any chance he gets.

Castiel would understand if he was a nerd or a geek, or any of the categories that seemed to 'deserve' constant harassment. But he wasn't. Cas was a normal 17 year old. He had had a few girlfriends, he was good at sports and he had quite a few friends. He, however, didn't seem to care about that every time he threw a punch or kicked him when he was down. Castiel's ribs were still sore from the last time the guy had caught him coming out of the library and given him a piece of his mind.

Cas knew that he could stop this from happening if he told somebody, any body. But he refused to reveal that he couldn't handle himself... especially to Dean. He refused to show the weakness that he so obviously had when it came to combat and protecting himself. Because Dean was so good at that kind of thing, and if he found out that Cas couldn't fend for himself... Castiel was pretty sure their friendship would be out of the window, and he wouldn't be able to handle that. Not after the awesome times they had had together in the short length of time that Dean had been here.

Dean had only been in the school for a solid three months but he was really starting to like it here. It was the longest that Dean had ever stayed in one spot and now he was starting to realise why some people liked school because now... he actually had friends. Well, if you could call a couple of nerds and a soft spoken, confused, baby in a trench-coat, friends. Deans dad was stuck on his most recent case and refused to let Dean help, insisting that his education was more important than hunting a Wendigo. Dean didn't really understand.

Castiel was the only friend that Dean had that didn't question everything about his life, and Dean liked that about him. The fact that he didn't care about anything but being Deans friend. And in being Deans friend, Dean thought that Cas told him everything. That he could confide in him and trust that Dean wouldn't overreact or berate him in anyway. Which is why Dean was borderline upset and a little angry about the fact that Cas hadn't told him about the guy that was currently following him everywhere and beating him up every chance that he seemed to get.

Dean had seen it happen once but thought that Castiel trusted him enough to tell him himself without Dean having to bring it up. For some reason, though, Cas hadn't told him.. and it had been a while. So Dean guessed he had to be the one to bring it up. Dean didn't know if he and Cas were good enough friends for him to bring up the fact that Castiel may be getting bullied by someone much bigger than him. Dean had seen the guy that had been harassing his friend.

He was a bigger wimp than his brother, Sam. He didn't have many friends and he had no reason to belittle anyone else. Yet he seemed adamant on making Cas' life a living hell. Well, not anymore, Dean wasn't going to let this continue. He'd sat across from Cas in the cafeteria at lunch, as he usually does and they had hatched a plan to take this scum down. It took a lot to get Cas to agree to the plan, but in the end, he decided that enough was enough. If anything, he'd get beaten up worse than he usually does, luckily, he had learnt how to take a punch.

"I'm going to hurt him, Sammy." Dean gritted through his teeth as he paced back and forth in his living room, explaining his and Cas' plan to his little brother. Sam scoffed, amused at how angry Dean was about the whole ordeal, when, according to Dean, Cas was only a 'mate'.  
"He hurt Cas! He's going to know what hell feels like!"  
Sam couldn't stop himself from laughing at that, earning him a scowl from his brother. Sam couldn't help it, Dean sounded like a Bond villain and he was only 17. Dean couldn't sleep that night, he was too busy trying to think of exactly what to say and do to this kid tomorrow. He picked the wrong dude to mess with.

The next day, Castiel pushed his way through the front doors of the school, with a new found confidence. He held his head high as he greeted his friends and basically swaggered down the hallway to his first class. He was aware that this was a bad idea, and that it probably wouldn't work, but he felt so good being able to walk around and not be scared to look up. As soon as he walked into the classroom, his eyes landed on the guy sat in the front row. Fear prickled in Cas' stomach but he followed Deans instructions and held eye contact with him. The boys brows furrowed as he attempted to figure out where this confidence had come from. His confusion slowly turned to anger, questioning if Castiel was challenging him or just wanted to get beat up.

By lunch time, the anger had almost bubbled over the top and this guy was on the hunt for Castiel. He'd searched the cafeteria, knowing full well where Cas usually sits but having no success in finding him. He stamped his feet as he stalked the hallway, glancing into class rooms as he made his way to the library. Thinking that, surely, Cas would be here. He was such a nerd with his books about ancient philosophy and knights Templar. Alas, Castiel was also not in the library. He was about to give up his search when he saw a glimpse of raven hair behind a bookshelf that quickly dissapered as he'd realised he' been spotted.

"HEY NERD, GET YOUR ASS HERE!" He yelled as he rapidly chased after him, soon hot on his tail. Castiel was stumbling as he tried to run away whilst also still holding his head high and not giving up and letting him win. The boy blindly ran after Cas, his feet burning as they practically ran the length of the school.

Seeing red, the boy didn't realise that Cas had hidden behind Dean Winchester until he collided with his firm chest. The boy staggered backwards, fear in his eyes attempting to be masked by his confident stance.  
"G..Get out of the way, Winchester.." He stuttered, attempting pointlessly to sound unfazed by Deans tall figure staring down at him.

"Make me." Dean gritted through his teeth, restraining himself until the right moment. In a fit of anger, the boy attempted to throw the first punch. Only to have it land directly in Deans hand as he blocked his punch and threw his own into the boys stomach, laughing as he doubled over and coughed violently. Dean twisted his arm around his back and kicked the back of his legs, making him kneel on the floor uncomfortably.

Castiel stood in front of him, a blush and sheepish look on his face. His hands were folded against his chest and his foot kicked at the gravel.  
"Hit him, Cas." Dean said, restraining the boys over hand with his other so that he couldn't retaliate.  
Cas' breath caught in his throat, he looked up at Dean with wide eyes. Cas was not a violent person and the thought of hurting someone else, no matter what they had done, made him physically sick. He resented people that hurt other people (apart from Dean, of course), so the idea of being as bad as them was unpleasant to say the least.

"That's what I thought, pussy." The boy spat from below him. Heat coiled in Deans stomach as he let go of one of the boys hands to throw a swift left hook to the side of his face. The boy stumbled, held up by only Deans hands. Blood slowly built up on his bottom lip and his eyes twitched as he attempted to adjust to the pain.

"Apologise." Dean whispered maliciously. The boys head dropped as he shook it to refuse. Dean pulled his fist back again and the boy flinched before he was hit, holding his free hand up in defeat.  
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry! Jesus. Castiel, Im sorry!"  
Dean looked towards Cas for approval who nodded, satisfied. Dean let go of the boys hands, who stood up, spitting out the blood in his mouth before running in the opposite direction.

Castiel stared at Dean, confusion evident in his eyes. Dean brushed the dirt off of his knees and the blood off of his hands before walking towards Cas, furrowing his brows when he looked up to see Cas' confused expression.  
"Why..why did you do that?" Cas asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. Castiel had had many friends but none that would've beaten up anybody for him. Dean laughed, grabbing Cas' shoulder fondly and looking into his spiralling cerulean eyes.  
"I did it cause you're my best bud, Cas." Dean lied. He had done it because he had started having strong feelings for Cas and his blood physically boiled when he'd realised what had been going on. He didn't want to tell Dean this, obviously, because Dean thought that it made him seem like a girl. To be possessive to the point of hurting somebody for your best friend that you wished was more, seemed very chick-flicky to Dean.

Cas' heart dropped a little when he heard Deans response. He was secretly hoping that Dean would've done it because he wanted to protect him and felt for Cas what he felt for Dean. Castiel had had feelings for Dean for quiet some time but was way too nervous to say anything. Especially since Dean was definitely nothing but straight.

"Well... Thanks." Cas replied, attempting to sound happy about the whole situation when really it just made him feel a little empty.  
Dean nodded, letting go of his arm and immediately feeling a little cold without Cas' presence.  
"You're welcome, Cas."

Sam watched from afar. He wasn't a creep, he had been told to stay at a distance but still in ear range incase things went too far or the asshole had friends. He chuckled slightly at how oblivious both boys were to the others feelings. Sam was going to tease Dean endlessly for the affectionate grab on Cas' arms and how many times he had looked at Cas with love and longing in his eyes.  
Sam had gotten to the point where he was so frustrated by the tension between the boys that he was ready to lock them in a room together . Maybe that's what he would do the next time Cas came over to study with Dean.

After all, maybe they would be ready to engage in a conversation about their feelings. Especially after what Dean had just done for Cas. Whenever you love someone, you show it by being ready to fight for them. Now all Sam had to do was wait for Dean and Cas to confess their undying love for each other.

Now to find Gabriel and punch him in the face. Fighting for someone was basically the same as fighting them. He deserved it.


	5. Lie To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prior to an earlier break-up, Dean is spiralling and drinking far too much. So he calls Cas, still drunk, only to be left with bitter disappointment.

It had been a solid total of 3 weeks and Dean was beginning to lose his actual mind. Three weeks without Castiel, three weeks of straight Whiskey and three weeks of no case. The days were getting longer and Deans patience was begin had come as a relief to Sam and himself all those years ago, but now as Dean ning to get short. The bunkerstumbles down hallways, he admits he would rather be anywhere else. Dean had canvased every room and corner in this place. He had even gone as far as to read a few of the books that were gathering dust in the library. Anything to take his mind of the dull ache in his stomach.  
Sam was always away, gallivanting with Gabriel and leaving Dean to wallow in his boredom and self pity. There hadn't been a job for quite some time. No ghoul to take down and no lives to save. The one time Dean wanted a case, any case, there were none. Even Crowley was behaving.. which was utterly... boring.  
So Dean had resorted to the thing that he knew best. The way that he was sure would remove Castiel from his memory. At least for a short while. He had gotten in to the Men of Letters secret stash of beer and was having himself a grand old time. He was almost three quarters of the way through and it had only been three weeks. The whiskey numbed Deans pain... for a while. He'd focus on the spinning of the room, or the patterns on the ceiling, or the places where the wood had chipped away on their table in the library. His drunken mind, 90 percent of the time, lulled him away from the harsh thoughts of his and Castiels' break-up. However, the other ten percent, Castiel was all he could think about.  
His short, raven hair and the way he rakes his fingers through it. Both when he is relieved and when he's beyond stressed out. Dean would mull over a glass of gin and the spiralling depths of Castiels' eyes, the pools that would drag him under and leave him screaming for breath but still somehow.. comfortable. At night, he stutters between restless sleep and imagining Castiels' strong arms encased around his waist, his hand splayed across Deans chest.  
But then came the hangover. The sobering and freezing realisation of waking up. Sunlight blinding and remembering that... nobody was ever there with him. The sheets were still made up on Castiels' side and the bed was cold. Everything was so cold.  
Tonight was a night where Dean would, again, attempt to forget to no prevail. He was spiralling down a bottle for the forth time that week and Sam was still nowhere to be seen. So Dean sat, abandoned, in his bedroom. The only light source being a dim lamp in the corner of the room and the offending light of his phone screen. Deans fingers shook, both from intoxication and anticipation as his thumb stoked across the number that he was so afraid to call. He took a deep breath and glazed his thumb over the call button, startled by the small buzzing that began.  
Dean panicked. He thought of hanging up, throwing his phone against a wall, downing the rest of the bottle and hiding under the covers. However, in the end, after debating with himself, he let it ring. Silence filled the room, coupled with Deans ragged breaths and the buzzing from the phone until eventually it stopped.  
"Hi-" Castiels' voice filled the confined space and Deans ears. Dean sighed, a slight smile tugging at his lips. It had been quite some time since he had heard Castiels' voice and he was quite thankful for it in this particular moment.  
"Cas, hey." Dean replied, only to feel a shock of ice pang in his heart when Castiels voice continued down the phone. Monotone and emotionless, and a little confused.  
"This is me.. I mean my answer phone. I assume you are to speak after the beep.. so...beep."  
Dean couldn't help the fondness that welled in his heart despite the bitterness that Castiel hadn't answered Deans call. In listening to Castiels' answer machine, Dean was reminded of when he had told him to record one.. all those years ago. He remembered the giggling fits that he and Sam were reduced to when they had heard it for the first time and the small look of accomplishment on the angels face when Dean told him that what he had done was satisfactory.  
What did Dean expect? That Castiel would fall right back into his arms? That he would pick up his phone after weeks of no communication? Dean must be really drunk because, instead of putting down the phone and willing himself to sleep, like he usually would. Dean waited for the beep. Breathed a little down the intercom before attempting to begin a coherent message despite his drunkness.  
"Hey, Ange-... Cas. Hey, I was just calling to like.. I don't know. Make sure you aren't dead in a ditch somewhere or locked up in some looney bin. I... I know I should have checked in sooner but I wasn't.. I didn't.. I don't really know what to say. On one hand.. I could go all sappy and emotional and tell you that I... love you and want you back, but you know me. So thats.. not what I'm gonna say.. nope. I'm just gonna leave you to.. do what you were doing and tell you that we're.. me and Sam... I'm perfectly fine without you."  
Dean couldn't say the last bit without the tiniest whimper in the back of his throat so he quickly ended the message as to protect his own masculinity. A small shiver racked his body so he clicked the lock on his phone, downed the rest of his beer and snuggled under the covers to attempt to gather at least a little bit of warmth. After all, he was almost one hundred percent certain that Castiel definitely wouldn't call him back. Not tonight and not ever.  
At roughly 2AM, Dean was proven wrong as his phone violently vibrated on his bedside table. At first, thinking that it was his brother asking for a lift home, Dean ignored it. Rolling over and closing his eyes again. But then the phone vibrated once more and Dean shot up in his bed. Sam never called twice if he knew that Dean would be either intoxicated or asleep. He'd just stay at Gabe's for the night doing... whatever it was the two of them did (Dean really didn't want to know.). But this was a double ring at 2AM, which left only one conclusion.  
Dean scrambled for the phone, not even bothering to read the caller ID before mashing the answer button and pulling it to his ear in one quick movement.  
"Dean." Cas' voice rumbled through the small speaker, rough and indifferent but not at all cold. Dean audibly sighed, both in comfort and relaxation as he collapsed back onto his pillow.  
"Cas.. I.. Hi. Are you okay?" Was Deans immediate question. Confused as to why Castiel would call so late or even call him at all after what happened. He heard Cas chuckle a little and Dean had dreamt of that sound. A literal heaven sent.  
"I'm fine, Dean. I was actually calling to ask.. how you were." Castiels voice was uncertain. He was almost always able to read people. Dean had said he was perfectly fine without him countless times, but now, over the phone, Dean sounded... restless. Exhausted and nervous and all together, quite sad.  
Dean stuttered through his response, attempting to assure Castiel that he was perfectly okay and that he'd just had too many beers is all. Dean could never truly slip past Cas though. Whenever he attempted to lie or hide the truth, Dean always knew. Which is why he wasn't shocked when he heard Castiels' gruff voice ringing in his ears, and resulting in the conclusion that..  
"No, you're not okay, Dean. How much have you drank?"  
Dean chuckled. "In glasses or cans?"  
"This is a serious issue, Dean." Cas almost growled down the phone, stopping the giggling on Deans end. "You could really hurt yourself..."  
"I don't care." Dean stated simply. Which wasn't entirely true but was also not entirely false. Dean was very much grateful of his shitty life, but wasn't too careful when It came to preserving it.  
"I do!" Castiel snapped back, sincerity dripping in his tone. He really did care about Deans well being, despite their previous arguments. This didn't stop Dean from scoffing, however, insulted by the fact that Castiel would even try to lie to him.  
"Please. You can spare my feelings, feather-boy. You don't have to lie just because you think it will make me feel better."  
Dean had imagined this conversation in many different lights and shades. One where Dean hung up as soon as he heard Castiels' voice. One the same but in reverse. Ones where Dean would apologize profusely and attempt to win Cas back with his words.. and a few like this. Where soft voices of concern turned to hushed arguments and a flurry of tears afterwards. Dean didn't want this to end like that. So even before Castiel could reply to Deans offended and offensive tone, Dean took a deep breath.  
"Sorry.. Cas. Didn't mean that. I know you care. I didn't mean to..." Dean was already gone. Down into the pit of despair and self hatred that he always found himself in where he just... wanted Cas to come home.  
"I know you didn't mean it, Dean. You hardly mean anything you say-"  
"I meant it when I said I loved you." Dean interrupted, without hesitation. Before Cas could even think about doubting Deans love towards him. Before he could start doubting the realness of their relationship or the intensity of Deans feelings that he held for Castiel.  
"Say it back.. Cas. I love you." Dean lingered on those last words. Whiskey obviously still in his system, or possibly just his blind love for Castiel. But he sat there.. hoping, holding on, willing Castiel to answer him at least.  
"For Christ sakes, Angel. Lie to me if you have to. Do you... do you love me?"  
The line was silent for a while. The steady, constant tick of the clock was the only thing to show that time was passing, before Castiel eventually answered.  
"Yes.. Yes, of course, Dean. I love you too."  
Dean smiled wide, ready to launch into a series of love confessions. But the line went dead and his smile faltered, knowing that Castiel had hung up.  
He was supposed to be happy, relieved. But all he could feel was empty as the words echoed around his head. The dull, monotonous was that they were said. The hastiness to hang up quickly after. Dean slowly lowered the phone from his ear and switched it off, depositing it back on the table. He wrapped himself up again, but this time the duvet was not enough and Dean still felt numbingly cold. Empty and cold and angry. Both at himself, for not being able to prove to Castiel that he was good enough for him. And at Cas, for not giving Dean the chance to at least try to prove himself.  
"I love you, too." Was what Castiel had said but the words were dry and lacking emotion. Not to mention that, a moment before, Dean told Cas to lie if he had to. So maybe that's what he had done. Lied to spare Deans feelings when really... he didn't love him at all. Dean begun to question if he ever did. If Dean was ever really worthy of his love or if Castiel simply indulged in him for fun.  
Whatever it was, Dean was regretting asking Castiel to lie to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, another one that's inspired by a 5sos song. You should listen to young blood, its full of Destiel feels.  
> Hope you enjoy!


	6. Dear Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The little note that Dean wrote Cas to get him to forgive him. (Monster among men)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit short and rubbish but.. yknow...

Dear Cas,  
I guess I'm writing this letter because I'm awful at sharing my feelings out loud. Which you already know. Well, surprise, I'm also awful at writing letters.   
When we had our argument, I was out of line. Even though I was sort of right in what I said, looking at it now, I realise. That I was wrong and you were right.  
You don't really know how hard it is for me to admit that somebody else is actually right. I also find it difficult to... apologise. Evan when I am in the wrong.  
You know when me and Sammy were younger, I broke his favourite toy. He cried for hours before I even spoke to him. That was the first ever time I said sorry to anyone and actually meant it meant it.  
I guess this is going to be one of those times.  
I'm sorry, Angel.  
Living without you at the bunker has made me a little... homicidal? Suicidal? Both? Anyways, what I mean is I cant do it. I cant be without you anymore.  
Also, I'm running out of whiskey to hide my feelings. And I don't have my Angel around to pop to the store and get me more.  
Sammy always asking me if I'm okay (when he's there) is getting infuriating. So... Yeah, I need you back.

I know there's no reason for you to believe that I'm sorry. Or for you to even forgive me. That's why I wanted to write you this letter to let you know that...  
I love you.  
Whether its the last time ill ever tell you, or its the thing that brings you back to me.  
You were the best thing that's ever happened to me. You picked me up, put me together and kept me stable.  
So I love you, and I always will.

Sincerely,  
Dean.  
PS: If you do choose to forgive me, I promise I'll make it up to you. ;)


	7. Kiss of a devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon!Dean decides he wants to do something that Dean has always wanted to do but had never had the courage to do.

Dean felt reinvigorated with this newfound power that he had. Being a demon wasn't so bad, he could practically do anything he wanted. Which is exactly what he was thinking as he strolled back to the bunker on a scorching Thursday night.  
Human Dean, stupid human Dean, had always had a soft spot for a certain angel that saved him from hell. The way his brow furrowed when confused or angry or happy. The way his electrifying blue eyes captivated Deans. Dean felt like a hero when Castiel was around. Like he could be anything, do anything. Castiel made Dean feel like he was flying, even after the fall. When neither of them had wings.  
However, Dean was never one for expressing his feelings. He had spent his life bottling his emotions away. From his father, his friends, even his brother. Dean would always rather hide away than be confronted with possible rejection, too afraid of the pain to even take a chance on anyone.  
That's why the soft spot he had for Castiel, had stayed a soft spot. Never a relationship. Dean had always had three reasons why he and Castiel would never be a match. Why they would never reach the crucial part of their friendship that he desperately wanted to get too.  
Firstly, coming out as bisexual was not exactly top of Deans to-do list. Terrified of how Sammy and the rest of his friends would react, Dean had purposefully avoided that part of his life. He would go to bars, find a man and talk for the entire night, then take a girl home to cover his tracks.  
Secondly, Dean was pretty sure that he wasn't desirable to the literal angel that is Castiel Novak. Sure that Castiel would never consider Dean as a potential partner. What with Dean being messed up and not exactly the best looking person ever.  
And finally, Dean didn't really feel like he deserved a man like Castiel. He didn't believe he even deserved to be pulled from hell, let alone everything else that Cas had done for him over the years. Dean thought that he definitely did not deserve to be in a relationship with Castiel.  
Thus, Dean smirked as he reached the bunker. Willing his eyes to change from inky pools of black to Deans innocent grassy iris's. This new, revitalised version of Dean was ready to be everything the old him could never be. He wasn't scared to admit his feelings anymore. Dean felt confident in his new mind-set, ready to face Castiel and take what he has always wanted.  
Upon entering (which was surprising to Dean because he didn't think he would be able to get in due to the warding) the bunker, Dean set his eyes on his prize. Thankful that Sam had chosen today to do their grocery shopping like the mother hen he is. Castiel was perched on the library table, discarding the chair, book rested in his graceful hands. Castiel could make anything graceful, and in appreciating the way Castiel's long legs draped over the table, Dean began to get a little excited. There was no time like the present.  
Castiel startled when he looked up to be confronted with Dean, only at least 2 feet in front of him. Dean looked like his normal self but Castiel could already tell that something was off. There was a certain look to Dean that Castiel had seen throughout the years that wasn't present in this moment and it concerned Cas mildly. Yet, in order to keep this... version of Dean calm and trusting of him, Castiel said nothing. Well, apart from,  
"Dean? What's the matter?"  
Deans tongue flicked across his bottom lip as he watched Cas's face of confusion. The side of Dean that was pushed to the back of his mind still made his stomach do flips whenever he was near Cas. Which made doing this slightly harder than Dean wanted it to be right now.  
"Nothing, Cas... Just wanted to ask you something." Dean answered coyly. Grinning when he heard the intake of breath from Cas when he bit his lip and winked. Cas's eyes stayed furrowed as Dean took a seat next to Cas on the table. Castiel was both trying to figure out what was wrong with Dean at the moment and what he was about to ask him.  
Dean leant back on the table, propped up by his elbows and squinting at Cas with a smirk on his face. Dean was using all his powers of seduction, everything that he had tried with girls, in an attempt to get Castiel to even remotely fin him attractive. Cas still remained unaffected, sat still on the edge of the table. Rigid and sceptical of what was going on in the present.  
"Dean?"  
Dean then realised that they had been sat for roughly a few minutes in comfortable silence. Well comfortable for Dean as he watched the rise and fall of Castiel's back as he breathed. Castiel, however, was beginning to dislike being watched. Fidgeting under the watchful gaze of Dean Winchester.  
"Can I kiss you?" Dean asked, pushing himself off of his elbows so that he was sat back next to Castiel who looked beyond flabbergasted. There was no way of missing the soft pink blush on Cas' cheeks as he stuttered and turned away from Dean. Flustered by the suddenness and surprise of the question.  
"I...What?"  
"I asked if I could kiss you."   
The Dean in the back of his mind was literally dying from embarrassment, yelling at his darker self to just dismiss the conversation. Tell Cas to forget that it ever happened and never mention anything again. But, unfortunately for green eyed Dean, the demon that controlled him wanted the exact opposite. He was going to insist if he didn't get the answer he wanted.  
Castiel was certain that this was some convoluted plan to prank or embarrass him, but he couldn't help but feel like it would be worth it. To feel Deans lips against him for even a second would be like returning to heaven. However, he isn't sure he could handle how he would feel if this was all nothing to Dean... would it be worse than losing his wings?  
"..Sure. I believe I would like that." Castiel replied. Throwing caution to the wind and not listening to his mind when it told him that this was a stupid idea. He revelled in the way that Deans eyes lit up and his cocky smirk turned into a genuinely surprised smile.  
Dean believed there was no need for further conversation. So, instead Dean placed his hand on Cas's chest, gripping slightly at the shirt that covered Castiel's skin. His eyes flicked up to Castiel's which held no hesitation, before falling back to Cas's lips. Dean leaned in, his green eyes betraying him as they clouded in black before his rough lips met Castiel's own soft pair.  
At fist, Castiel's hands were still by his side. Shocked and rooted to the spot, Cas found it hard to move in the beginning. Castiel's hands sifted at his sides before coming up to grip onto Deans waist, turning into the kiss. Both men kissed with the passion of a thousand couples that were destined to meet but never did.  
Before either man ended up collapsing from lack of breath they pulled Back. Dean smiled wind, his lips brighter red than before and his cheeks looking delightfully rosy. Castiel's eyes were wide as he stared back at the man he had just shared his first proper kiss with.  
Dean mistakenly believed that Castiel was surprised due to his excellent kissing abilities. When really, Castiel was too bust focussed on Deans eyes. Eyes that were still icily blank, pools of swirling blackness. Like galaxies that had exploded and died.  
"...Dean?" Castiel's voice shook as he eyes Dean quizzically. The man beside him chuckled lightly, his hand still rested on Cas' chest.  
"No, Castiel. I'm sorry but Deans not here right now. But I assure you... both of us REALLY enjoyed that.."  
With that, Dean disappeared. Leaving Castiel shaking with both shock and desire, feeling terrible due to the fact that: One, he had just literally made out with a demon who was taking the form of his best friend. And two, he really enjoyed it. Despite it being against everything Castiel stood for, He desperately wanted to do it again.  
This was most definitely going to be the biggest mistake he ever made and the best decision of his life.  
Shit...


	8. All I needed was a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean knows he shouldn't make friends when he'll be leaving school, but somehow this boys different.

Day one of a new school. The fourth new school for Dean this year, and it was only March. Dean had already come accustomed to the fact that they would never be in the same place for more than a few weeks, so he knew not to make friends. That was rule number one for Dean and Sam, don't make friends. It hurt too much a week later when you had to say goodbye and knew you'd never see them again and you couldn't even tell them why.  
Dean was currently 14, so middle school was here it was at. He tried his best to stay secluded and quiet. Sit on his own at lunch. Request to work on his own when it came to group work. And spend most of his lunch times in an empty classroom, studying Dads journal so that he could help with the case and they could move away again.  
This time, however, the plan to not make friends had turned out blowing up in Sam's face. Despite Deans warnings to not talk to anyone, Sam had already made three friends in the first day and was already playing D+D at lunch. Dean, however, would be caught making the same mistakes. Or so he thought.  
It had gotten to Thursday and the case was only getting harder for the Winchesters. Dean found himself spending more time in the empty classrooms than in actual classrooms. He'd flicked through and analysed every single page in his dads journal and just couldn't figure it out. Hopefully, his dad was having more luck back at the motel.  
Dean heard the door handle rattle and out of instinct he slammed the journal closed and ducked beneath the table. Afraid that what Dad was hunting had come to kill him because they had been here too long. Stayed in the same place for too much time.  
"Hello?" The voice that rang out in the empty classroom was not the voice that Dean expected. It wasn't booming or confident, it was small and confused. Just another kid that had probably seen Dean going in and out of the classroom when nobody else was and wanted to see what was going on.  
Dean peaked over the table to get a look at the kid that had interrupted his study time. The boy was quite small with messy black hair and a tiny trench coat. Dean was certain the only people that wore trench coats were 80's Detectives and weirdo's that hung out near playgrounds. But this kid made it look completely different. Cute even. Speaking of cute, Deans attention was brought to the little Bee backpack that the boy wore on his back. Clinging to it as if it wasn't already on his back.  
The kid was about to leave, he had his hand or the door handle and was just about to step out when Dean stood up and revealed himself. The kid twirled back around to see Dean stood in the corner of the room. The furthest desk from the door.  
"Hey." Dean whispered, as if talking quietly would save his already compromised position. He waved the boy over to him, before ducking back under the desk. The boy, now even more confused, followed Deans instructions and crouched under the desk with him.  
"My names Dean, what's yours?"  
"Castiel."  
Dean covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing. He'd never hear such an exotic name before. Castiel. He said the name in his head a few times, letting it sink in and getting to like it.  
"Do people call you Cas?"  
Castiel looked up at Dean, his brows furrowed. The boy in front of him was nothing like Castiel's other friends. Dean looked more like a man than a boy, aside from his freckled face. His hair was gelled upwards and his eyes looked ten years older than the rest of him.  
"No." Castiel finally answered Deans question. Still very confused as to why they were in an empty classroom, under the desk that was the furthest away from the door.  
"Well, I will. Come on, Cas." Dean ended the conversation by rolling out from under the table and holding out his hand for Castiel to take. As soon as Cas's hand touched Deans thy were off. Running down the empty corridor to the playground where they sat for hours, instead of learning maths like they were supposed to.  
Dean ended up telling Castiel everything. Which confused him at first because he never told anyone anything about his life, but Cas just seemed like somebody he could... trust. Dean realised, then, how lonely he had made himself. How he had out-casted himself to save his feelings when what he should've been making friends. All he needed was a friend.  
Of course, it hurt like hell a few weeks later when the case was closed and they had to move again. When Dean had to tell Cas that he was leaving, he didn't want to end the conversation. Didn't want to go. However, the fact that Castiel knew why he was leaving and understood why he had to go made it relatively better. Unfortunately, Sam didn't have the same comfort when he had to leave his friends.


	9. All my fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds a church and confesses his life to an angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter than the others, sorry lmao.

Dean Winchester was not a religious person. He'd said it once, twice. Probably a thousand times. Dean was never one to believe in God and angels. Vampires, werewolves, spirits and wendigos? They were all real, Dean had seen them. Fought them. But he had never seen a big man in the clouds. Never felt a presence of a higher power. Anyway, Dean figured if there was a God, the world wouldn't be a wasteland and Dean wouldn't always feel like shit. Alas, Mom and Dad were dead and Sammy was spiralling and neither Dean or God could do anything.

Currently, Sam and Dean were chasing a coven of Witches through some city that Dean had never been to and the trail just so happened to lead to a church. The place was pretty warn down and practically rubble but it was still obviously a church. Dean could still make out the image of Jesus in the smashed stained glass and the candles, though not lit, still stood tall along the pews. 

Sam, always one to be respectful, stood on Deans toes every time he swore or made a dirty joke. He even sat to pray at one point. Said he needed some time alone and that Dean should go an try find the witches. Dean knew that Sam wanted to pray for Jess. Say hi or something.

Dean had been searching around the back of the church and happened to stumble upon the confession booth. He scoffed at it at first glance. There was too much for Dean to confess and he definitely couldn't be saved by a few hail Marys. However, after a few minutes of consideration, Dean opened the door to the booth and stepped inside.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned." Dean started, trying his best not to chuckle at the concept of asking something he didn't believe in for forgiveness. He took a second to calm himself and then begun   
his confession.

"Uh, well, lets see. It all started when my mother died. I was only four and my Dad spiralled from there, drinking and hunting. He was never really a father after that, just a caretaker. If that. He always loved Sammy more than me. Which was understandable. I guess I reminded him of Mom too much. I never had a childhood.. or friends really, because we were moving everywhere and Dad says that saving lives matters more than a normal childhood. Sammy got to go to college though. Lucky. He escaped from the life somehow and left me to look after dad. Then, well, i ruined everything. Like I seem to always do. I asked Sam for help finding Dad. I led that bastard demon into his life. It's practically my fault that Jess died. Then, after all of the efforts to save him, lives lost, Dad died. Which was basically my fault too. Dad didn't have to make that deal to save me and Sam. He shouldn't have been died. It should have been me. On the road, we met a few of Dads old friends, Ellen and Jo... boy, did that end badly. Another thing to add onto the list of bad shit I've caused just by meeting someone. I'm not sure if Sammy even likes me anymore and that's what hurts more than everything else. It sounds childish when I put it like that, but I'm pretty sure that too much has happened to him. To both of us. So I don't think he... likes me anymore. He used to look up to me, yknow. Me being his big brother and all. I was the superhero. I was Dad and Mom. But he ended up bigger than me and had to look after me most of the time. I'm likely just a burden at best. Well, at least I have Bobby, for as long as he has left. Don't know what I'd do without that cranky old bastard..."

Dean clasped his hand over his mouth, a few tears escaping his eyes when he realised that he had just said almost everything he thinks out loud. He took a shaky breath and shook his head, stupid Dean.  
Dean was ready to leave the booth when he heard a cough from the other side. Dean almost fell off of the chair but grabbed the sides quick enough to save himself. Dean looked between the holes into the other booth with an offended look in his eyes. The man on the other side had black hair sticking up in every direction and a dishevelled trench coat over his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" The man asked, a single tear escaping his soft blue eyes. Dean laughed a little, of course not. Of course he wasn't okay. This man had just heard his entire life story and he was asking him if he was okay. None of this was remotely okay.

"I'm fine."


	10. Saving Dean Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean doesn't feel too good but luckily he has a Castiel to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning:  
> Heavy mentions of suicide and an almost suicide attempt.

Wind ruffled Deans hair as he stood atop the chapel roof. Shivering slightly in the October night. The church was quite close to the motel that he and Sammy were staying at. Chasing down something or another, Dean wasn't even sure anymore. Dean thought that this would be a pretty poetic way to go. You know, since God wouldn't be able to ignore him this way. Stupid Chuck.

Stupid Dean. Believing that he could brave face this like everything else and be a man like John had always told him to. "Man up!" "Men don't cry." Stupid John. Never giving Dean the fatherly love that he craved or being proud of him like a father should be. Stupid Sammy for getting it all. Everything he wanted. Being so positive and unaffected by everything. Braver than his big brother. Stupid Castiel. Stupid, beautiful, magical, idiot Castiel. Who just... wasn't answering his calls when he really needed him to. Cas couldn't have picked a worst time to decide that he wasn't going to answer Dean. Especially after he had said he would be there whenever Dean needed him.

Dean clutched the half empty bottle of whiskey in his shaky hands. He still wasn't drunk enough for this. The bottle slipped slightly in his grasp and fell off of the edge of the chapel. Dean counted the seconds before the bottle hit the floor, smashing and sliding along the pavement. The whiskey, like blood, flowing along the road and into the drain. 15 seconds... 15 feet. Tall church. Well, Sammy did always say he was going to wind up in a gutter some day. Dean was just living up to his destiny as a dead beat.

Dean wouldn't be doing this if he believed anybody was going to miss him. But he was certain that everybody would be fine without him. There really wasn't anybody left to miss him. John, though Dean was positive he wouldn't miss him, was already dead. Jo and Ellen. Dead. Hell, the only person Dean thought may be shaken by the fact that he would do something like this was Bobby. Bobby who was also dead. Every single death was Deans fault. At least he felt as though it was. Sure, you could say that Sam would be devastated by Dean dying. In reality, they've both 'died' way too many times for it to hurt anymore. They've both mastered the art of moving on.

There was one other person that might miss Dean though he didn't deserve it. Speaking of the angel. Through his clouded, drunken haze, Dean felt a stronger gust of wind from behind him. The rain that had previously been beating on his skin had caused the roof beneath him to become slippery. His foot skidded and instead of falling backwards, his entire body rocked forwards. Deans breath caught in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut as he braced for the fall that never came. Instead of the feeling of the cold pavement beneath him, Dean could only feel the warm grasp of a hand on his forearm. He had been saved.. again.

Dean turned carefully on the edge. His movements sluggish and slow. The hand didn't let go of his arm, refusing to let him go. Deans eyes met with radiant sparks of blue and he sighed. Both in frustration and relief. He had finally built the courage to go out on his own terms and he just had to come and save him. Though, Dean was secretly glad he hadn't fallen. Secretly glad he wasn't dead.

"Cas... what are you doing here?" Dean grumbled. The left over remnants of the Whiskey slurring his speech. Cas simply stared at him, his brow furrowed and his eyes filled with pity. So much pity. Dean couldn't stand it.

Dean tried to pull his arm from Cas' hold but it wouldn't budge. He looked up to see the angels eyes glowing softly. Castiel was using all of his strength to keep Dean on the roof. Dean was confused, if Castiel really didn't want Dean to jump he could just zap them back to the motel and be done with it. Instead, he just stood there on the roof with him, holding on.

"Cas.. seriously."

"Come down, Dean."

Castiel's tone was firm but gentle. Dean understood then. Castiel hadn't taken them back to the bunker because he wanted it to be Deans choice. He wanted Dean to make the choice himself, to come down with him. So that Cas knew he wanted to go with him. Dean wasn't going to lie, it felt a little good to know that Castiel trusted him to make his own decision and wasn't going to push him.

"Why?" Dean asked, taking a step towards Castiel. Now he was away from the edge, a safe distance in fact. Still, Cas wouldn't let go.

"Because, your life isn't your own Dean."

"Bullshit. My life belongs to me. Its mine to do whatever I want with. Let go." Dean replied, getting slightly frustrated because he had no idea what Cas meant. As if he could read Deans mind (which wouldn't be surprising) Castiel explained himself.

"You aren't going to be the one standing at your grave when you're gone, Dean. You'll be at peace but we wont."

"So this is a guilt trip?"

"Dean Winchester, I am trying to tell you that you may not care about your life but I do. I'm not going to let you take your life from me."

Deans eyes widened after Castiel had finished explaining fully. He cared. Cas cared about him. Of course he did, Dean didn't understand why he hadn't realised before this moment. If anybody cared about him, it would be Castiel. The man who literally went through hell to save him and had been through hell to bring him back every day since then. The angel who had given up his faith and his wings. Turning his back on his brothers and sisters for Dean. Why in the world would Dean ever doubt somebody who had given up everything for him?

Dean managed to pull his arm away enough to be able to grab Castiel's hand and squeeze it tightly. Castiel's brow relaxed when he saw the hint of a smile on Deans face.

"Come down, please." Castiel made his final plea, tugging on Deans hand a little to emphasise his point.

"Okay.." Dean croaked, managing to hold back the tears. With one last glance toward the edge, Dean confidently moved away. Glad that Castiel had arrived when he did because.. Dean would've never forgiven himself if he had gone through with what he was going to do.  
Castiel just couldn't seem to stop saving Dean. For the second time in all of creation, all angels across heaven heard a special message on their angel radio that night.

Dean Winchester is safe... Again.


	11. Go to hell- Part two (Sabriel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a little part two to 'go to hell' in which Sam decides to confront Gabriel about his feelings. I mean, if Dean could do it with his fists, then Sam should be able to do it with his mouth.

Sam woke up the next morning with a distinct feeling in his head and his heart that he had to do something. Something about this giant mess of feelings that he had himself wrapped in. He had to figure himself out and then figure Dean out and then, hopefully, somehow, figure Gabriel out. However impossible that seemed at the time, what with Gabriel being a very closed off kind of person and Sam being far too awkward and closed off himself to have any real kind of conversation with him.   
In the first few weeks of Sam and Dean staying in the little town, Gabriel had followed the younger boy home every day. Driving slowly by him on his motorbike, much to Sam’s dismay. Sam would akin what Gabriel did as something close to catcalling as he seemed to take enjoyment in yelling compliments at Sam as they travelled the streets. Compliments such as “Your hair is looking nice today, Samuel.” And “You got nice fucking eyes, Sammy boy.” And “I bet your big strong hands could-“ ...It irked Sam most days. He’d run his way home so that Gabriel couldn’t keep up or he’d try his best to leave school early so that Gabriel was still in class when he’d walk home. However, over time, it became more endearing and Sam would walk slower so that Gabriel could rest his legs and they talk quietly. As if they were secretly friends on their rides home. Sam also noticed how hot Gabriel was as he took less time looking at his feet and more time laughing at the teen to his face.  
Which led Sam to where he was now. Hunched over his laptop researching why the hell he was having feelings for a boy when he was very obviously, definitely straight. At least he was pretty sure he was considering the fact that he had only found females attractive before Gabriel, but to be fair Sam was young and hadn’t really had many experiences so who was he to know what he preferred. It endlessly confused Sam and that’s why he had spent all night searching the internet for the answers that he was desperate to find. As well as himself, Sam decided that it was a good idea to look for how to define Dean too due to the fact that he had no idea what his brother was and they weren’t exactly the kind of brothers that talk about sexuality and relationships.   
After a solid 5 hours of searching and debating and rethinking his life, Sam had come up with a complex bar chart and two conclusions. Dean was apparently (according to the internet) bisexual, as he was attracted to both girls and guys. It wasn’t hard for Sam to infer that, although Dean had had romantic and sexual relationships with primarily girls, he also wanted to be with Castiel. So with Deans sexuality figured out, Sam went down the rabbit hole of himself and decided...eventually.. that he was demi-sexual. From what Sam understood, that meant that he was only attracted to someone if he had a deep connection with them. Girl, guy or whatever in between. Sam was fine with that definition as it suggested that he was neither straight, bi, or gay. He didn’t have to fit in a box, he just had to love someone. No gender included.  
Now that he had figured himself out, it was time to find the man who had caused all the confusion. Sam had been a little anxious to figure out what sexuality Gabriel was so he had decided to (stupidly) leave that to chance. Sam doesn’t remember seeing Gabriel with any girls in their school, or seeing him at school at all for that matter, and he had followed Sam home complimenting him a lot so there was a possibility. Dean liked to annoy Sam and say that Gabriel only ‘stalked’ him because he had long hair and looked like a girl but then Sam would shoot back and chase Dean telling him all the indecent things that Gabriel had said to him until Dean gave in.  
Sam threw his books in his bag as the bell for the lunch rang, rushing out of the class so he could get to Gabriel without Dean catching him and asking what the hell he was doing. Sam made a bee-line for the wall behind the gym as that was where Gabriel and his buddies always hung out because there were no cameras and teachers didn’t know about it. Sam usually wouldn’t condone half of the things that Gabriel did but for some reason, he accepted it because he knew Gabriel had his limits. However, as he made his way to the place he thought for sure Gabriel would be, Sam saw no-one. Not to worry, if he wasn’t in his usual spot smoking, he would probably be in the parking lot. Leaning on his motorbike trying to look cool and succeeding.   
Gabe ran round the school, checking the corridors before eventually making it to the parking lot where, of course, Gabriel was. The older teen was leant over his bike, fixing something that Sam couldn’t see. His golden hair was falling into his eyes no matter how many times he tried to brush it away, his black leather jacket practically hanging off of his small body, clearly a hand-me-down. Sam had to take a second to compose himself before walking over, his satchel held tightly over his shoulder. It was a little unusual for the two to converse when not walking home. That’s why it was understandable when Gabriel looked up and his eyes widened in shock. Sam thought for a second that Gabriel was going to be angry at him for approaching him at school and ruining his ‘bad boy’ look. He thought it all over in his head again and reconsidered everything, ready to turn around and put this whole thing behind him. Sam was seriously considering turning around before Gabriels shocked look turned happy and he turned around and lent back on his bike, folding his arms and smirking.  
“Finally grew the balls to come say hi, Samwich?” Gabriel joked, mockingly. Sam didn’t miss the way Gabriel’s eyes flew up and down his body before looking back at his face with hooded eyes. Sam decided to add that little thing to the list of ‘not straight things’ Gabriel has done.  
“Shut up, Gabe. I need to ask you something..” Sam stated, monotonously. Sensing the serious nature of the conversation, Gabriel’s face turned from flirtatious to comforting.  
“Go for it, Sam.” Gabe nodded, using Sam’s actual name for the first time since they had ‘met’.  
“Well, you see, I just wanted to say that you – I mean that I’m.. we’re.. could we.. Me, you.. together?” Sam mumbled quietly, scratching his neck and blushing furiously. Gabriel stared at Sam with a quizzical expression, obviously confused.   
“What?.. Samuel, are you ok?” Gabe laughed, concerned by his friends lack of capability to form a coherent sentence.  
Sam started getting flustered and frustrated and his breath was coming out in short spurts. He had planned everything out but hadn’t taken into consideration that he was very inexperienced and awkward when it came to situations like these. It got to the point, where Sam was so angry at himself for not being able to do something so simple that he just..   
“I THINK YOU’RE REALLY PRETTY!”  
Gabriel laughed, taking it as a joke for a second before realising that it definitely wasn’t. Sam’s eyes were shifty and he looked like he wanted to be literally any where else at all. Some serious self-consciousness was kicking in and Gabriel wanted to stop it before it flew into full swing.  
“Hey, Samshine, it’s ok. It’s fine. I think you’re pretty hot yourself.” Gabriel confirmed his mutual feelings and put one of his hands on Sam’s shoulder comfortingly.  
“Was this your attempt at asking me out?” Gabe asked, hoping to hell that it was and he hadn’t misread the signs. Sam was intriguing as hell and more than a little attractive so Gabriel would jump at any opportunity to hang out with him.  
“What if it was?” Sam asked, extremely worried that he had crossed a line and they may not be able to come back from it. Sam valued Gabriel’s friendship, even though he was a little annoying at times, and he didn’t want to loose that friendship over some stupid crush.  
“I would say...” Gabriel started, letting the tension build in the air a little before quelling Sams fear, “fuck yes... when and where?”  
Sam breathed a sigh of relief and finally felt at ease as soon as Gabriel had admitted to wanting to date him too. They discussed the location and who would pick who up. Gabriel insisted, saying that it would look extremely extra if they both rocked up on a motorbike to a date. Sam gave in considering the fact that he didn’t have a mode of transport and Gabriel did. After they had concluded the details of their date, Gabriel drove Sam home. Making sure to beep the horn outside the motel and draw Deans attention like a complete dick.

 

“You’re doing what?!” Dean whisper/shouted when Sam explained everything. It wasnt an angry shout, more like a shocked/disbelieving shout. They were both sat on their opposite beds in the motel, cross legged and whispering to each other in case their dad heard.  
“I’m going on a date... with Gabriel..”  
“Gabriel of ‘The Archangels’, they’re like a badass biker gang dude. How the hell did you bag him?!”  
Sam made sure to throw a pillow at Deans head before asking how Castiel was after everything that had happed. Dean huffed out a quite ‘he’s fine’ before turning over and pretending to be asleep. Sam, of course, tried to push him for an actual answer and asked him several times if he was ok but there was no answer at all. Figuring that it was probably best to leave him alone and ask at a later time, Sam also turned around and tuned out the world. Images of a certain leather-clad teenager seemed to be all he could think of.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you liked this! Leave comments if you hate/liked it to tell me what else to do cause I have 0 inspiration.


End file.
